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nagisasstunningpersonality · 3 years

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Retranslation and Analysis of That Fight Scene

So firstly, I just want to say the subs are not bad and convey the general meaning very well, in a way that sounds natural in English. That being said, there's always some things that get lost in literal translation, and I really want to demonstrate how much depth the Japanese in this scene actually has for Karma and Nagisa's characters.

Basically the TLDR point here is that this fight is very much not about Korosensei. This is completely platonic, I promise I resisted making any shippy points.

Karma: Hey, Nagisa kun, aren't you getting extremely carried away?

Nagisa: Eh? (definitely surprised and bewildered)

Karma: The number one strongest assassin in Class E is Nagisa kun, isn't it? (uses yo here, which suggests confidence in the statement). Are you (very directly yourself, your own thoughts) wanting to quit assassination? Let's think about the talentless others who are desperately trying their hardest to kill him. When you put it like that, it's like a woman who 'has it' telling the ugly ones that they should honestly quit being so desperate to get a boyfriend, that kind of feeling?"

So some interesting analysis here is that Karma says "zuibun", or extremely, when the original translation is "a tad". The translation feels more natural in English, however it kind of makes me feel that Karma's trying to make more of a point. Nagisa has the right to be making suggestions and stepping up, but he's gone so far this time it's crossed a line.

I think 才能がないなり (talentless, saino ga nai nari) is also very interesting. Talent is the best translation, but if you look at the kanji very literally, there's "genius" and "ability". This specific word choice more implies that the other assassins are good, but Nagisa's just another level. Japanese grammar is confusing at best, but essentially 'nari' means become. So you take this as kind of like 'students who couldn't develop genius ability'.

The repetition of 'desperate' is also pretty interesting, linking the examples together better. It emphasises the point that they're kind of at a loss with. He also doesn't directly say attractive woman, he says "motteiru onna", which essentially means the same, but is literally "a woman who has (no object given but essentially 'it'). This more directly reflects to what he's saying about Nagisa, he HAS talent, this unspecified natural quality that makes him better than everyone else without trying.

There's also a lot more rhetorical questions in the Japanese, which got combined into single sentences in the English. The "let's think" thing is very literally what he says, like he's wanting Nagisa to actually consider his thoughts for himself.

Nagisa's original argument and intention may have been about Korosensei. Karma may be genuinely opposed to saving Korosensei. But that isn't the point of Karma's argument at all, he's making this about Nagisa because he's reached a limit with the both of them.

In order to spare you, more under the cut.

Nagisa: T-the aim wasn't... Above all, for assassination, your understanding is always better than mine

Karma: Saying that directly (take with slight pinch of salt - he could have also said "fixing your statement") is irritating. In reality, isn't it that you yourself are the most powerful, and you can't comprehend the feelings of weak humans?

Nagisa: That's wrong (also using affirmative yo here)! That's not what I said! These are my true feelings! Do you hate Korosensei? We went to see a movie together with him, didn't we have a variety of great times?!"

Karma: That's why, that octopus did his best to come and make a fun classroom every time, and didn't give up like Nagisa. Without bloodlust, this classroom wouldn't have been built. Can't you understand the effort?! It's not just your body, are you still a fresh elementary school student?

One thing to note here is that Nagisa isn't actually finishing his sentences. You can absolutely tell what he means because Japanese makes sense like that, but he's still dropping words. Or when he does say a full sentence, they're very short statements. He is desperate here, trying to prove a point he can't actually voice into words correctly.

The context here is that this is before we know their full backstory. Nagisa admired Karma, and he can't quite say it right yet. He thinks they're on different stages still, and Karma is frustrated because Nagisa doesn't see the point.

Karma, after all, does have this inhuman image of Nagisa in his head from years ago. The image of Nagisa looking like some kind of snake demon as he kills Karma in his sleep. He genuinely still, here, believes that Nagisa is purposely hiding this. That's why he keeps putting words into Nagisa's mouth. He's also cutting him off at points, not listening at all to what he's truly saying.

At the same time, Karma starts talking down to him. Instead of saying 'no' (how you'd end a sentence to a friend), he starts using 'kai', which is condescending and how you'd speak to a child. There's an argument here to be made for Karma doing this as a kind of defence mechanism too, but that's very complicated. At this point he really is just trying to get to him.

They are not arguing about killing Korosensei, not at all.

Karma: Huh?

Nagisa: *does the creepy eye thing*

Karma: Eh? What are those eyes? You with the social standing of a tiny female animal, are you defying a human?

Nagisa: I was just...

Karma: If you have a complaint, how about saying it after you win a fight for once? It's aimed at me, so come on. C'mon. C'mon. C'mon!

This is actually one of the most significant changes to the original.

This is the thing, Karma was never calling Nagisa a tiny mouse of whatever, he was just comparing him to one. Because he knows very clearly that Nagisa isn't like that. He sees that look in his eyes and it prompts him, in his frustration, to finally try and bring it out of Nagisa. He's trying to prove a point.

But then Nagisa stops himself. He lets go of his bloodlust for a moment, defaulting to Nagisa as we know and love him, literally turning his head away from Karma.

But Karma's too far gone at this point, he's dragged stuff up his past feelings about Nagisa, the ones he's been hiding for a year to be tentative friends with him, and now he can't let them go. He needs to see Nagisa's darker side plainly, no matter what that means.

It's also important that he says "it's aimed at me". I think this is a little deeper than literal. I think what he's implying here is this entire thing is somehow aimed at him, like Nagisa's trying to strip everything away just for his own perspective.

Obviously at this point Nagisa snaps and chokes him.

Nagisa internal thoughts: Even I...

Nagisa: I'm not going with half my feelings!

Karma: This guy...

This is also pretty significant. I'm surprised they cut the "even I" part because that says a lot about Nagisa's current feelings. He still doubts himself. He's aware that he's a pacifist, that he's got a lesser social standing, but Karma's put him into a position where he has to stand up for himself. And this is important to him.

Karma smiles when he says "this guy", getting ready to punch him. He feels like he's succeeded, in a way. Though at first he looked genuinely surprised Nagisa actually did it. There's a certain kind of satisfaction that finally he managed to bring Nagisa's 'true' self out.

Obviously at this point they get separated.

So what does all of this actually tell us? Well, pretty clearly here, this is just Karma's issues coming to light. But also a very helpful and useful moment for Nagisa's development as a character. Whether we agree with Karma using him as a punching bag or not, it genuinely does force Nagisa to get some self agency for once.

Karma and Nagisa will never be characters who sit around and talk honestly about their feelings. But even if they're using a whole situation to mask the fact that they very much are discussing their relationship here, it is still a significant moment where pretty much all the barriers they've been putting up against each other drop. They're just still not entirely on the same page through this scene.

Nagisa thinks Karma is just looking down on him and trying to pick a fight. He's baffled and confused as to why Karma feels so strongly against him.

Karma, on the other hand, thinks Nagisa is better than them all and is frustrated when he 'purposely' acts like he isn't. Karma still feels lied to from when they were kids. And he wants to expose it all, to get Nagisa to understand the position his skill puts him in. I honestly don't think Karma ever thought Nagisa was less than him at all, he just knew it would be an easy way to get a reaction. See how he flips tactic from "you're the best here" to "you're a tiny animal" when Nagisa just went into denial the first time?

I'm not going to go into the whole of their actual full fight, but there's some interesting points that reflect back on all of this.

Korosensei saying "your own answer is right in front of you", basically demonstrating that this entire thing really is just Karma and Nagisa

The entire point of the fight was to get one hit in with a knife, but Karma decides to just continuously beat Nagisa instead. Which yeah, is pretty ineffective. Pretty much proves again that it wasn't about just taking a victory.

Karma took Nagisa's hits on purpose, maybe it can be argued that this is trying to make things last longer, to get Nagisa to actually work for it.

Nagisa demands that he listens to what he has to say. And that's right, because Karma was cutting him off originally.

Karma is a super strategist right? And he was genuinely shocked that Nagisa didn't use his bloodlust to take him down. This is Karma. Sure, he's allowed to make mistakes. But this is odd for him. He was so caught up in his own perspective of Nagisa just having that skill that unfairly made him better. But Nagisa literally throws that skill out and beats Karma on his own level, pretty much disproving him. Maybe Nagisa has this special ability, but he's also worked just as hard as everyone else. He's trained to know what assassination means.

Beating Karma like this, on a 'human' level, was pretty much it. Karma stopped fighting back when he realised that, because he was disproven, and pretty much every wall he put up against Nagisa got literally choked out of him. Karma is already known as kind of an ass and a dirty fighter, you really think he'd worry about the others not accepting it if he stabbed Nagisa fair and square? If he cared that much about killing Korosensei, he would have just done it.

Their fight was never about Korosensei.

#assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #ass class #karmagisa

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zwiebelbaguette · 3 years

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You know what bothers me, the more I think about it? The Arcane Order is supposed to be siblings. (At least according to the Wiki.) How can they be so utterly unsentimental about all that's happening between them? Like... If I thought I need to have the world reborn and one of my sisters would disagree, I would ask her, why. I would wonder if there was still something left to do, do safe the world as it is.

And if I find her points not valid, and I'd actually have to suppress her will and character for what I believe is the best for all creation? I'd feel remorse about that. It would hurt me. And then knowing either I will have to kill my sister or she'll kill me? Again, even if I'd really think we have to go through with it, it would hurt me.

But the Arcane Order? No sentiments for each other. Bellroc doesn't even care that Skrael is gone. (And she seems to understand the concept of loved ones. She seems to understand the human need to have them around when things go awry. She just doesn't seem to have anyone she can feel this way for?)

And Nari is all what we Germans call Weltschmerz (feeling pain because the world sucks the way it does, feeling the weight of the world and of everything bad in it), but none of those feelings seem to be reserved specifically for her siblings.

I don't get it. Okay, when you're that old, feelings might have dulled. But they feel all this anger and pain at the state of the world. But that's it. We're shown that they can have feelings and still they continue to be flat villains (except for Nari, who's character is flat but not a villain).

Maybe it's because if they had been given any more depth, their actions would be illogical. (I mean, it probably is easier to tell mankind how to make things right, especially now that trolls and humans can finally live side by side if they want.) But still... That feels so... Off.

#trollhunters spoilers #rott spoilers #arcane order

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euphoriyoongi · 3 years

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♥︎ Seven Deadly Sins ♥︎ ot7

♥︎ One ♥︎

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Summary: The seven princes of hell, who are the embodiment of the seven deadly sins, are sent on a mission to find the human with the purest soul. The prince who successfully retrieves the pure soul will become the next king..but what happens when all 7 of the princes fall in love with the beautiful soul?

♥︎ Pairings: ot7 x OC (original character)

♥︎ Genre: fantasy; fluff, smut, angst

♥︎Word Count: 4.0k

♥︎ Warnings: smut/sexual scenes and situations, heavy language, polyamory

♥︎Rating: Mature (18+)

prev. //next.

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The world is a hellish place, that's for sure.

Everywhere you look, you see some form of evil. Whether it be someone spending too much on a purse, or someone looking at themselves in the mirror thinking that they are the best thing since sliced bread.

The thing is, most of these humans don't realize what they're doing. They show little-to-no respect or gratefulness for the things they have. Most of them believe that they need more. That one dollar isn't enough. So then if they had a million...would that not be enough either?

It's all a race. For example, two brothers racing to have a better life when in reality they're just wasting it away to receive superficial things that will just be gone when they leave this world. It's idiotic, and self-centered. If people actually thought about how well they have it, they wouldn't sin. And well, every single human being sins on this planet. It's what makes it go around.

The person sitting next to you at a restaurant just ate his girlfriend's food of her plate. The waiter is stealing another waiters tip money. The owner of the restaurant is sleeping with someone else's wife. The customer threw his drink at the waitress because his food was too cold. The group of teenagers won't get up to leave to make room for the next group. Sin. It's all around. And there's no escaping it.

Well, unless you're the Pure Soul.

Choi Nari. Her name means Lily in English. And the name lily means "purity."

She's known for her ethereal looks, and cascading long black hair that flows so softly. She's sent from heaven, but has no idea of her origins. She only believes she's a human just like everyone else. And lives a life filled with peace and love.

She never harmed a single soul in all of her lifetimes. Once every hundred years, she is reborn, and every one of those years, she's avoided the devil, whom wants her all to himself. The reason? Well, you always want what you can't have, right? The devil is all sins, himself.

This reincarnation, however, will be a bit different. There's something different about her, and the only way she'll be able to avoid the devil is if she avoids sin.

The devil has his own plans, though. Hell stop at nothing to have her. He will send all of his seven sons to earth, for they need to bring her back alive so he could deal with her. And the son that successfully brings her back, will become the next king of hell.

His sons were the embodiment of the seven deadly sins. And his goal was to make the Pure Soul suffer all seven of them, and make her sin to have her all for himself.

If this plan works, he'd successfully take away all the food in the world. So, he hopes all seven of his boys will not falter at her beauty.

"You what us to do what?" Yoongi huffed at his father, crossing his arms over his chest. "Hell no, I'm not fucking leaving my soft bed for that."

Yoongi is the prince of laziness, and definitely lived up to his title. He dreamed of living as a rock in his next life, but sadly, his next life was never going to occur. He was immortal. There was ways he could die, though. But for now, the best he could do was imagine he was a rock while he slept.

The devil growled. "Sloth, you dare to deny me?"

All seven of the boys were gathered in the throne room, where the devil sat on a large chair that floated on flames. The room was all black, with a bit of red detailing.

The devil was very old. He wanted to retire the throne to one of his sons, but he didn't know which one he should give it to. They were all so untrustworthy and well, the only one who he probably could trust was the one who envisions himself as a rock. That's just sad.

When Yoongi didn't answer him, The devil's voice boomed across the high-ceilings. "God damnit sloth! You're so slow sometimes."

Smiling, Yoongi winked at his father. "It's what I do best, dad."

Still fuming, the devil looked towards his oldest son, who was currently eating a bowl of noodles. "I-how did you even get those?" He smacked a hand to his head, sighing. This was ridiculous.

Jin didn't even answer. He just kept slurping his noodles until his father got mad enough to move on with what he was saying.

"Listen, my sons. I need you to retrieve the Pure Soul."

"The pure soul?" Jimin smirked. "That hot ass chick from heaven?"

The devil smiled viciously. "Yes, that's right." Rubbing his hands together, he raised an eyebrow. "And son, I give you full permission to seduce her in any way." He laughed, knowing she wouldn't be able to cave in from his charm.

"So, she's hot? Does she need money?" Taehyung smirked as well, crossing his arms. "I could give her anything in the world."

This was getting out of hand. All he needed was for his boys to bring her back here. "Okay. Anyway, you have 100 days to bring this beast back here, got it? And none of you dare to get attached to her, or you'll be dead meat." He huffed, praying they wouldn't turn against him. Heh, praying. He hasn't done that in a while.

"She couldn't be any near attractive as me, father." Namjoon smiled. "You have nothing to worry about."

The devil hoped that were true, but he knew how beautiful this woman was, and also knew that his sons have never seen anyone like her. Even Lust, who's slept with countless demons and everything in between. He's never seen a pure soul. And even the devil himself wouldn't be able to resist.

“So, what do we get if we bring her back?” Taehyung smirked, looking at his brothers. They all looked as if they didn’t care. Well, except Jimin. He just wanted something to fuck. But Taehyung knew what he wanted. And what he wanted was to take his father’s place. His greed was strong for it, and wouldn’t stop for anything or anyone.

The devil smiled. Finally. He should’ve known it was going to be greed. He couldn’t turn down anything especially if he’ll get something out of it. “Well, the throne, of course.” He shrugged his arms upward, a sneer on his lips. “That is, if you earn it.”

“Oh, believe me, father. I will.” He laughed, looking towards his younger brother, Jungkook.

Jungkook was starting to get mad. He absolutely hated it when Taehyung would get whatever he wanted. It just wasn’t fair. As his eyes began to fade from a dark brown to a vibrant red, the prince of envy patted his shoulder. “Down, boy.”

His eyes faded back to their usual color. Envy was nice, when he wasn’t jealous. He was a sweetheart, and always seemed to be able to calm him down. He goes by Hobi, but his name is Hoseok.

“Alright. Now. Are you guys ready.” The devil growled impatiently. “Do you have everything you need?”

Every one of his sons nodded, except Yoongi. He was now sleeping while standing up. Was that even possible?

“Sloth!” The devil sneered, just waking him enough to blink. “Dammit I don’t even—Do you have everything you need?”

Yawning, he opened his mouth to mumble “have everything for what?”

Silence broke out among them. “You…you know what..just fucking go.” With the flick of his hand, the boys were now transported through time to the planet earth, where they now need to search for the Pure Soul. But wait..how will they find her?

South Korea

Spring time, 2021

The trees were blossoming. The beautiful colors of whites and pinks danced as the petals fell to the ground. Nari was enchanted with them. Their beauty was astounding. She wished she was like them, to be so graceful, even while they fell.

Her favorite season was spring. She lived a full twenty five years of life constantly waiting for spring to come back around every year. She loved to see the flowers bloom, and all the aromas of different plants. She wished she was one. They never had to worry about anything. They just looked pretty.

She never had any friends to share her happiness with. She always wished for some, praying to god that she won't be alone anymore. Was there a reason why she was? Was it because she always agreed with everyone? Was it because she was too nice?

Well, she was too nice, but she had no control over that. It's just how she was made. She didn't know she was from heaven. She only knew that her family died when she was small, and doesn't remember them. So she was alone in this world, lost and left to find her way through life. She only wished she had someone to love unconditionally, just like the couples she'd see as she'll walk down the streets.

Nari made her way back to her small apartment. It was perfect for her though. Just enough space for her to cohabitate with her cat, Mochi. There was one bedroom, and a living space that combined with the kitchen. A tiny bathroom was across from her room, but it was big enough to have a full-sized tub in it. She did like baths more than showers, anyway.

As she walked into her bedroom, her cat was sprawled out on its back on the bed, purring as it slept. Mochi was a happy cat, and loved belly rubs and being held. She’s never had a cat that loved as much attention as mochi did, and he was the type of cat that never wanted to leave her side.

“Hello, mochi mochi.” She smiled, giving him a little pet. “How’s my cutie?” The cat let out a large yawn, then started to stretch out his paws. “Ah. Big stretch.” She chuckled, letting the cat continue to sleep and walked over to her desk in front of the window.

All over it was scattered drawings and short poems she’d write when she was bored. There was something off with her, though, and she knew it. She always wondered why she flowed with everything that went on around her. No matter what it was, she’d agree with it. That includes relationships.

Nari has never been in one. Despite how stunningly beautiful she was, no one would give her the time of day. She also didn’t know her own beauty, which might be part of the reason. But was she meant to live alone in this world? Was that her purpose?

Feeling upset with herself, she walked over to her full-body mirror. There she stood, her long white dress flowed down past her knees, and her long black hair fell down towards her backside. She curled the ends of it today, feeling happy with the way it looked. Her eyes were a hazel type color, but closer to green that black. Her lips were a soft pink, that plumped and were Un-chapped.

She was beautiful. No one would be able resist her. And now, the reason she’s never had a significant other was because she never let herself notice that someone was trying. That could be because god hated the idea of it. Her soul purpose was to keep sin away from taking over the world. He never expected her to start thinking for herself. She’s been reincarnated since the beginning of time. So why is she starting to think for herself?

She spent 25 years of life without any sexual activity. Without anything special in her life. She never had a family, and works as an ice cream shop cashier. There’s nothing to her life. No purpose. She wanted to change that. But as soon as that thought went through her head, it left like a flicker of light.

“Dude, this is absolutely ridiculous.” Yoongi huffed once again, just wanting to rest. “How are we supposed to find her.”

“Yeah.” Taehyung sighed, holding pink petals in his hands that were falling down from the branches above. “Anyway, what are these things?”

“I wonder if they taste good.” Jin giggled as he stuffed a few in his mouth. Spitting them out after a few chews, he shook his head. “Nope. Not good.”

Namjoon was sitting down on the ground with his legs crossed. There were lots of people walking by, and he noticed a man fixing his hair in the camera of his phone. Smirking, he closed his eyes and made the man see himself in a new light. Too bad that new light was for him to think too highly of himself. The man then tossed his phone onto the ground and walked away, thinking he was too good to have one.

“Damn, Joon. We just got here.” Hoseok muttered. “Let’s just stick to our task.”

Nodding, Jungkook spoke up. “Yeah, let’s find this girl so we don’t combust.”

Jin side-eyes him. “What do you mean, combust?”

“Well, you were too busy eating to even pay attention to father.” Jk rolled his eyes at his hyung. Leaning up against one of the trees, he smirked. “Father said he’ll kill us if we don’t find the girl.”

Jin bursts out in laughter. “Yeah, right. As if he—wait you’re serious?” His face turned from playful to worried. “I—oh, you are serious.”

“We need a plan.” Taehyung dropped the flower petals off his palm and dusted them off. “I say we split up.”

“It’ll be an uneven number then.” Jimin pointed out, who seemed to be in and out of the conversation. There were plenty of pretty girls walking around, and he was turning himself on. “Anyway, I just want something to fuck. I’ve never fucked a human before..”

Ignoring Jimin, Namjoon agreed with Tae. “Yeah, Tae, I think we should do that too.” He pointed to Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung. “You guys go one way, we’ll go the other.”

Yoongi was surprisingly awake, and agreed also. “Alright. That’s good with me. As long as I don’t gotta do any work.”

As the boys set on to where they needed to be, little did they know that Nari passed them out as she was walking to work.

They kept walking, and Taehyung noticed a brand new car roll up to the curb. Smirking, he left the group to go check it out.

He walked around it with his arms behind his back, looking it over. He must’ve looked off because the owner of the car came out and asked what he needed.

Wrong question.

“What do I need, you ask?” Tae smiled down at the man. “What I need..is this car.” He smirked, his eyes turning into an icy blue. He wanted it, and he’ll get it. The man proceeded to give him the keys and stood stationary, and Taehyung called over Jimin and Jungkook.

“Let’s go boys!” He yelled, and hopped into the drivers seat. He didn’t even know how to drive, but he’ll make himself.

“That was fucking sick, hyung!” Jimin high-fived hun as Jungkook sat in the back with a frown on his face.

Jimin noticed. “What’s wrong, Jk?” He asked him, turning back towards him in the leather seat.

“I wanted that fucking seat.” He hissed at him, sending daggers through his eyes. This made Jimin nervously laugh, and he turned back around.

“Anyway!” Jimin changed the subject. “Where should we look for her? What does she even look like, anyway?”

As Tae drove, he described her. “Well, she has long black hair and a bright soul. We should be able to see who she is the minute our eyes land on her.”

“Ah.” Jimin nodded. “Well, the minute my eyes land on her is the minute I’ll fuck her.”

“Jesus, Jimin. Lay off the sex for once. Some of us need it too.” Jungkook growled from the back seat.

This made Jimin laugh. “Yeah, as if anyone would be attracted to your wrath ass.”

“Don’t piss him off, Jimin. I really want a peaceful ride.” Tae huffed, stepping on the gas. “I say we look around a shopping mall. Girls like shopping here too, right?”

“I like shopping.” Jk muttered under his breath.

“I say we should go to a park or something.” Jimin chimed in.

Taehyung scrunched his nose. “The fuck is a park?”

Letting it pass, they decided to drive to the nearest mall, while the older brothers were currently walking by foot to find her.

“Do you think she’ll like me? I think she’ll love me. I mean, who wouldn’t? Look at me!” Joon laughed, talking himself up as they walked amongst the humans. “I’m getting all the stares!”

“Um, no. I think it’s actually Yoongi. He looks like he’s dead.” Hoseok chimed, holding in his laughter.

Yoongi was sleepwalking. He couldn’t keep his head up, and was nearly walking like a zombie. He was catching all the eyes around him and Namjoon thought it was all for him. Well, he was most certainly attractive. But he wasn’t the reason for the stares.

Pouting, Namjoon rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I’m the reason for some of them at least.”

“Oh my god! Look! It’s a noodle restaurant!” Jin excitedly chanted, jumping up and down. He was a grown man, and looked like he was a kid at a candy store. “Let’s go!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea—hey!” Hoseok got cut off as Jin grabbed ahold of his shirt.

All four of them sat down at a table, their legs too long for the chairs. All seven of the boys were above six feet tall. That was because Satan was nearly seven feet.

“Do you think that the other boys found the girl yet?” Namjoon said as he chomped on the noodles. The noodles that they weren’t going to be able to pay for.

“Nah.” Yoongi said, shaking his head. “But if they did, good for them I guess.”

Jin was already on his fifth bowl. “I don’t really want to be king anyway. I just came here for the food.”

“Jesus fuck.” Hobi grunted. The soup part was too hot for him. “This is fucking spicy. Why is it spicy?”

“Maybe because you got the chili powder.” Jin chuckled, grabbing Hoseok’s bowl. “Here, I’ll eat it.”

Hoseok glared at him with a frown. “I don’t know how you’re so skinny.”

“Alright guys.” Joon clapped. “We should get a move on with finding her.”

When no one responded to him, he sighed, shaking his head. “Maybe I should’ve picked a better group.”

As Joon was thinking this, Taehyung was thinking the same thing.

“Alright, where is Jimin at now?” Tae sighed, putting a hand up to his head as they stood in the middle of the mall. They looked like giants amongst all of the people there, making them stand out even more. Jungkook stood next to Tae, also wondering where Jimin went.

“All I know is that he said something about going to flirt with the cute girls.” Kook stated, shaking his head. “I don’t know which cute girls he was talking about, though.”

“Oh my god. It’s never ending with him. We can’t bring him anywhere.”

It was silent for a moment, until Jungkook spoke up again. “Do you ever get so mad that you just want to kill them?”

Taehyung looked at him, blinking. “I can’t take you anywhere, either.”

While Taehyung was having an existential crisis, Nari was three stores down from him in her cute ice cream shop.

A few cute boys walked in, and ordered some ice cream. As she gathered their order, one of them kept asking for her number. “My number? Like a phone number?” She mumbled, scrunching her eyebrows.

“Yes.” The cute boy nodded, a smile on his face when he thinks he’s getting it.

“Ah, that. Well, I don’t have a phone.” She smiled at him, and continued to scoop his ice cream. The bus’s friends all laughed at this, making the one who asked get upset.

“Listen here you little bitch.” The boy reached over to grab her by the neck, making her confused as to why he freaked out. She just said she didn’t have a phone. As he pulled her against the glass of the ice cream stand, someone’s voice boomed through the shop.

“Hey hey, that’s no way to treat a lady.” The boy said playfully, making the boy who was holding Nari falter. “Well, only when you’re in bed, I guess.”

His hair was a dark blue, almost black. His eyes nearly looked as if they were a pink of some sort, but maybe he was wearing contacts.

After that comment, the blue haired man stood face-to-face with the asshole who held Nari. Letting her go, he turned toward him. “Who the fuck are you?” He said, his two friends standing behind him with crossed arms.

The mysterious man didn’t even look over at Nari. He just glared at the boy. In came two more boys, who immediately walked over to the mysterious guy. One of them had longer hair than the other, but both of them had black hair. All three of them were unusually tall, and looks as if they had no fear. The longer haired guy spoke up. “I’ll beat your ass so hard you won’t be able to walk.”

The three other boys seemed to get a bit scared, knowing they had no chance against these guys. Nari stood there, in awe of their beauty. She never had thoughts of anyone like this. They were all so beautiful, she just wanted to know more. She wanted to know why they were standing up for her.

As the three childish boys ran out of the store, Nari caught eyes with the blue haired boy, who immediately dropped his jaw.

Jimin couldn’t believe his eyes. There she stood, the most beautiful soul of the human race. Her long locks were held back by a scrunchie, and her eyes were lined with black eyeliner. She was so beautiful, he couldn’t help but stare. He wanted her.

Taehyung felt the same way as well. How in the world could a creature like this exist in the world. Is this way his father wanted her? He began to experience dirty thoughts, some of them pertaining to keeping her all to himself. That could be because of who he was—Greed. He wanted her. He wanted her bad.

Jungkook was quietly staring, his eyes open wide. He’s never experienced this feeling before, but to be fair, he’s never seen someone so beautiful in all his years of life. He wished to have something so passionately, and that something was her. He didn’t care that his brothers were also infatuated with her, he wanted her all to himself, too.

Nari didn’t even know what she had done to the boys. She had no idea that she was made just to compel the sins themselves.

What was she supposed to do now? Was she supposed to thank them? She really had no idea. But before she had the opportunity to say anything, one of the boys said something first.

“Well, we finally meet.” Taehyung smirked. “Choi Nari. The Pure Soul.”

“The..the what?”

*********************************************************

prev. // next.

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #park jimin #bts hoseok #bts joonie #jung hoseok #jungkook #bts fanfic #kim seokjin

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vfenrirsv · 3 years

Text

She left her books, her car, her clothes, and a note

But all she wrote was, “Tonight I'm leaving on a train,”

She said she's headed west, to make it right, for one more night

And, well, I don't blame her if she is

They say it isn’t stupid to stay and fight for a relationship, because love is complicated and messy and people are more than just the sum of their quirks and dirty laundry or bad habits. They say it isn’t stupid to put your all into your relationship, to go all in, to open your heart and love with all of it; knowing that you might get hurt as well. They say there is no limit to love, that there is no mountain high enough or river deep enough…but I guess love only truly lives in song and sonnet, because if love were real then wouldn’t you be in as much pain as I am?

Wouldn’t you be suffering under the knowledge that the person you swore to love with all of yourself for the rest of your life didn’t even act like they want you anymore?

But he thinks it's just one more sunset

And after all, it's her fault if she hasn't caught on yet

So why'd you have to go?

Would you even miss me if I were gone? Would you walk the halls and cry for me? Would you stay awake at night and look to the stars, wondering where I was and how things could have gotten so twisted and turned around? Would you even notice that I wasn’t there? Would something in your soul feel missing or dark? Would you run down the drive and look for me the morning after you realized that I wasn’t coming back? Would you scream and demand that the heavens answer your question of why, why, why?

Or would you sit in front of your television or play on your phone, and mutinously stew in your own silence? Would you go to work every day, nary a disturbance to your life of work-grocery-home-shit-shower-sleep-repeat, going on and on like every other day? Would you look around and continue to ‘have nothing to say?’ Would you even look around at all?

Is there something I could say to make you turn around?

Cause nights like these I wish I'd said don't go

Is there anybody there?

Can anybody help to get me out of here?

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

I’m already gone, even if I’m still here. I battle with myself about how much more to bend or struggle or argue. When we argue I am the one spilling my guts, crying and emoting and being rung dry while you sit in silence with a quick joke or flirty comment. “You’re so pretty.” You say it’s to make me feel better, but all it does is chip away at what little of my feelings I have left. Do you even care? Have you even realized that I’m leaving, that I’m out the door, that I’m disappearing right in front of you? I’m disappearing from this life, this relationship, from the friendship I thought we had, inch by inch by painful fucking inch.

Have you even realized that I’ve stopped arguing with you, stopped asking you to talk to me; have you noticed yet that I’ve simply stopped?

Is there anybody there?

Can anybody help to get me out of here?

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

If you were fighting for this relationship, if you were determined to stitch it back together; failures and all, would you argue with me more? Would you get overwhelmed and angry and loud? Would you throw things or slam doors? Would you demand answers and dedication and a second, or third, or tenth chance? Would you get desperate and panic, thinking that everything was your fault, like I do? Would you turn your mind over and over, trying to find a solution to problems that you know aren’t even fixable anymore? Would you lose sleep like I do? Would you forget to take care of yourself? Would you get sick to your stomach like I do?

Would you dread the thought that you’ve become a complete and utter failure, like I do?

Try as I might, I just can't handle this

I lost myself inside a drunken kiss, and I

All that I wanted was to walk you home

Save a sad song for the sing-along

Would you even recognize rejection anymore?

When I say “You haven’t kissed me today,” and you kiss me on the cheek, do you even understand how sad that makes me; how utterly low it brings me? Instead of dragging me close and laying claim to my lips and stealing the breath from my lungs, you skim my cheek for a millisecond before pulling away. If my love language were affection, you’d be speaking loud and clear. It doesn’t matter that you follow it up with a peck on the lips. “I’m just not good enough for you anymore, am I?” you ask. Truthfully? No, I don’t think so anymore. I am not going to apologize for outgrowing a relationship or a person who had the option to grow with me but stubbornly refused to.

When I tell you “I need you,” and throw myself at you, change my clothes and my under things and my actions, when I come on to you and give you every opportunity to have me in the way that a man wants a woman; you smile at me, call me cute, and feed me an excuse. Do you know how that makes me feel? To know that the only man I want to crave couldn’t care less for a taste of me? Have you even realized that I’ve stopped propositioning you? Your excuses taste like ash in my mouth and sound like static in my ears.

Do you even know the last time you touched me? No? I do. I am intimately familiar with all of the times you’ve left me wanting.

In sixteen days it will be a year. A fucking year. 12 months. 52 weeks. 365 days. 8,760 hours. 525,600 minutes. 31,536,000 seconds, each an opportunity denied. Do you have any idea how the fuck that makes me feel? Do you even fucking care what you’ve done by doing nothing? Are you even aware of the neglect that I feel? That is YOUR fault. I am livid. I have spent money needlessly on lingerie and waxing and short dresses and makeup and have watched more than my fair share of tasteless x-rated cinema to get ideas on how to fucking please you and for what? FOR WHAT? For. Absolutely. Nothing. A fucking year? Are you fucking serious?!

We’ve been married a year and four months, and it seems like I don’t mean anything to you at all.

Oh excuse me, my bad, I pay my share of the bills – so I guess I’m good for something.

And what she'd give for one more smile

And how she hoped he missed her

'Cause, God, she missed how he would kiss her

You know, I lay awake at night and I wonder; would we have been better if we had waited to get married – would we even be married at all? If we had catered to everyone else’s needs, delayed everything, if I had been witness to all of this earlier, would I have been able to foresee how much you don’t respond to me anymore? If I had slowed down and kept a part of my heart to myself, would I be better off? If I had stayed with my job up north, would things have progressed as they have? If I put my foot down about moving down here, was more vocal against moving into this oversized house, more resistant about sacrificing my preferences and wants; would anything be different?

If I didn’t love you as much as I do, would I be better off? If I didn’t believe that sometimes love isn’t enough, would we be better than we are now? What if, what if, what if…

So why'd you have to go?

Is there something I could say to make you turn around?

'Cause nights like these I wish I'd said don't go

Is there anybody there?

Can anybody help to get me out of here?

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

Who have I even become in this relationship? I can’t stand the person that I have become, and if I don’t love myself anymore how in the world can I expect you to? I’ve stopped taking care of myself, and I’ve stopped taking care of you – but jesuseverlovingchrist it isn’t my responsibility to take care of you. I am not your mother, your maid, or even your mistress. You refuse to take care of yourself? Fine. Then don’t.

And if you won’t love me, then I will just have to love myself instead.

I used to be vivacious, exciting, and adventurous. I would go out to drink and flirt on New Year’s Eve. I’d kiss a stranger, and have fun doing it! I’d dress and make myself up just to turn someone’s head, to catch someone’s eye, to feel coveted. I would pack a bag and go hiking or camping on a whim. I’d get on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle and hold them close and feel the thrill of speed and power beneath me on the highway. I’d swim naked in the sea and sleep in my car on three-day weekends. I’d stay up past midnight to watch the stars disappear and the sun rise over the ocean. I’d make friends of friends, chat up strangers in coffee shops and bookstores. I used to try things for the sake of trying them. There was always the thrill of the unknown.

Now? I stay at home, holed up in a bedroom with paint on the walls and carpet on the floor that I can’t stand. I fucking hatehatehate the color. Who thought that beige-everything was a good idea? I spend all my time reading books and avoiding the world. I can’t even live well in the shadow of my unhappiness. I just eat, and eat, and eat and grow fat and sick of the shade that I cast. I can’t do this anymore.

I’m leaving, and even if you tried to stop me, I don’t know that I’d even believe that you meant it.

'Cause you're walking down a road that I can't go

Yeah, you're walking down a road that I can't go

You're walking down a road that I can't…

Disappearing By Inches, by Vann Fenrirs Volchitsa

Champagnes For Celebrating, by Mayday Parade

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ajokeformur-ray · 5 years

Note

Hey there dearest! Could I please get a request for Arthur walking in to Reader cutting their long hair completely off (like a buzz cut) because they just found out their mom passed away and couldnt bare to take care of their hair anymore? (This may or may not have been me like 2 months ago 😅) thank you in advance! You're a lovely person and an excellent writer ^-^ 💕💕💕

I’m sorry this took me so long! But I hope you like this; if not I’m more than happy to do you another.

Warnings for themes of grief.

Word count: 665.

You stood over the bathroom sink, a pair of kitchen scissors in one hand and a thick chunk of your hair in the other. Your bottom lip quivered as a fresh wave of grief washed through you, crashed over you, and hot tears coursed down your cheeks as you brought the scissors closed upon your hair, the symbolic cutting off of something heavy, some truth you wanted to get rid of, not lost on you.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, I -

You knew not who or what you were apologising to, but it didn’t matter. At all. You carelessly grabbed chunk after chunk of your hair, hacking away at it as images of your mum, of what had happened to her and to you filled your mind and your eyes with more tears than you could shed, so lost in your pain and your sadness were you. You knew that you would care that your hair was unevenly cut later, but right now you just wanted everything off, you wanted it all gone. You didn’t want to take care of it anymore, not without your mum.

There was a quiet knock on the door and you froze, you froze, but you were too emotionally exhausted to wipe the tears from your face, to put on a smile for the man who had seen you at your best, at your worst and at every point in between. Arthur had lost his own mother, though the truth surrounding the event was blurry to you, so he would understand. He would always understand.

“Yeah?” You sniffled and Arthur let himself in, his strong, dark brows creased in overwhelming concern. You continued to cry as Arthur took in the hair in the sink, the scissors in your hand, the tears in your eyes…

“Oh, love,” He sighed, crossing the threshold of the bathroom and coming over to you, his nimble fingers taking the scissors gently from your hand. “I’m so sorry.” Your eyes met in the mirror, Arthur clearly thinking something through, and then he said, “What do you want? Let me do it for you. Wanna take care of you.”

You smiled as best as you could, grateful even with the haze around you. “Buzz cut?”

Arthur’s shock and disbelief was obvious, though he wouldn’t judge you for it or hold it against you. Not now and now ever. Arthur would always, always support you, in this and in everything. “You want a - you want a buzz cut? Are you sure?”

You nodded. Firmly. Once. Yep. Get it off get it off get it off -

Your breath hitched and tears poured down your cheeks, and Arthur nodded, turning you so that you were stood straight in front of the mirror and he was directly behind you. His eyes met yours in the mirror as he took over the job from you, evening out anything which had to be tidied up. He didn’t have the tools to do a proper buzz cut so Arthur would only do what he could with scissors, but it was enough. It was enough.

A sentiment you echoed almost ten minutes later when you looked at yourself in the mirror, past the tears and the grief and the sorrow, and looked straight into who you were as a person. You looked at you and you knew it was enough. It had to be.

“It’s enough, Arthur.”

Arthur almost dropped the scissors in his haste to get to you, where he truly longed to be, as he turned you around in his arms, his hands smoothing over what was left of your hair, his lips at your temple as he murmured his love for you again and again and again against your skin, as if he thought that saying it out loud over and over and with enough emphasis each time that it would at least begin to heal you from the inside out.

He wasn’t too far from the truth.

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crimsonrae · 4 years

Text

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Five

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Warning: Attempted Rape in this Chapter

Rating: Mature

The Trials of I'm Fine

Something was burning.

A deep trench furrowed into Geralt's brow as his eyes rolled open. He was still lying on the bed. He had a vague memory of Jaskier ranting away before he had let oblivion take him again. Now there was only silence and the faint smell of burning food.

Gingerly, he eased himself up to sit. The wooden frame of the bed creaked loudly in the small room. For the first time, he noticed his boots were gone. A quick check over showed he was missing more than his boots. His shirt was gone, replaced by bandages and a light blanket that had fallen to his waist. His daggers and tonics also seemed to be missing.

Where the fuck were his swords?

Unnerved that he hadn't noticed their absence before Geralt cast his gaze about as he properly took in his surroundings. The room was small. Smaller than he had realized, a dwarf would even sneer at the wardrobe size of this room, but it was clean. The old floorboards had been swept of dirt, the table next to his bed held a small washbasin and just across from that was a small wooden chest. A window faced opposite of him as he eased his feet to the ground, his hand drifted to grip the back edge of the bed to leverage himself up as he ignored the shocks of pain tearing down his shoulders and into his spine.

If he could only kill those fucking fleders again he would.

His hand brushed against something cold – metal. For a moment, he thought he had found his swords, silently thankful that Jaskier had kept the weapons nearby. He gently wrapped his hand around the familiar feel of a blade and drew out the hilt. It was a sword alright, but it wasn't his.

The blade was too short by far for someone of his stature and the hilt well-worn from continual use, though the dust that had collected bespoke of the last time it had been touched. Geralt let the sword fall to the bed and finished his movements toward standing. Almost immediately he felt a rush of blood and a spiral of dizziness as he did so. The woman – he had to remind himself that she wasn't Renfri -Lyrra had said he shouldn't be up. He had never been particularly good at listening.

It was only with a few tentative shuffling steps that he managed to find his bearings and force down the dizziness with the twinging pain. In five steps he was out of the bedroom and into the main living space. It only took a few seconds to ascertain that the shack he was in, only had the two rooms. A table stood not far from him, fruits and some chopped vegetables covered the top. To his left was a small open area that held a fireplace with a pot hanging from a trammel hook inside. A faint stream of smoke came from the top.

He took a deep breath and ambled over to the poker set next to the hearth. It took more effort than he wanted to admit to lift the iron rod and remove the pot from its hook. He set it down cautiously as his eyes caught sight of familiar black leather. His boots. Geraltblinked and sighed as he noticed the folded pile of blankets, a stack of fresh laundry, and a lute.

Jaskier.

Geralt shook his head bemused and sat down to reach for his boots, by his estimate it was now early evening and the bard and Lyrra had been gone for several hours. She must have been cooking dinner before the surprise discovery of a long-lost betrothed occurred.

What a fucking mess that was.

There was one thing in his rant that Jaskier had gotten right, however. They needed to go.

Now that Geralt had recovered more of his faculties, he wasn't about to continue to depend on Lyrra's hospitalities. She barely had enough room for one person, let alone three. And he wasn't sure he could continue to look at a ghost, no matter that her eyes weren't sparkling hazel, but grey or that her long hair was only a few shades off from her sister's. Jaskier should have found a way to get him back to the inn. It's not like they hadn't done more with less in the past two years they had traveled together.

With one last grunt, he tugged on his boot and began his return to the bedroom. His shirt had been resting on the wood chest when he had exited. Light footsteps reached his ears just as he stepped to the bed. Automatically, he reached for the sword when Jaskier's familiar vibrato registered. A softer responding timber told him that Lyrra had returned with the bard. Whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen.

As if the couple could sense his thoughts, he heard an indignant squawk of a verbally abused minstrel followed by an amused giggle. He leaned into the doorway.

Lyrra was the first to notice his presence.

She raised a brow as she caught sight of the short sword in his hand, "You're not to be up yet. Much less kill something."

"Heard voices." Geralt murmured lowly.

"Where'd you get the sword?" Jaskier asked as he came to stand beside her. He had found the witcher's broad sword in the grass and had hidden it safely beneath his laundry.

Weariness more than showed in Geralt's gaze as he subtly used the doorway to lean against and outright seemed to ignore the question. Lyrra sucked a breath in between her teeth, "It's mine, it was stowed between the wall and the bed."

"Why do you..?" Jaskier's attention was split between her assessing stare and the stalwart front his friend was attempting to convey.

Geralt raised a brow at her, similar questions were on his mind. Why did she have a sword? Had Renfri given it to her? Why was she taking care of him of all people?

Lyrra shifted uncomfortably under his stare before she shrugged, "I've been on my own for over a decade. Girl needs to protect herself somehow." As if the words were enough to steel her spine, she settled a pointed glance over his shoulder, "You look pale. You should still be resting."

Jaskier nodded perfunctorily, having grown used to the other man shouldering on when injured, "Right... We should get you back to bed."

"No." Geralt grunted, to Lyrra's disbelief, but lack of surprise, "I can rest at the inn. We've taken up more than enough of your hospitality."

Jaskier moved to protest, but Lyrra's light touch on his arm stopped him as she shook her head. She turned her attention back to the witcher, "Alright... Come hand me my sword, then."

Geralt held her gaze and hefted the small sword up to anchor the handle towards her in offer. Lyrra crossed her arms and shook her head again. He knew what she wanted him to do. When she didn't waver under his glare, he let it fall on Jaskier.

The bard raised his hands in surrender and shook his head, "No, sorry, I'm with her on this one. You look like hell."

Geralt scowled lightly, "Already practicing your duties as a husband then?"

Both Jaskier and Lyrra flinched at the barb, much to Geralt's amusement, even as his hostess stalked forward to relieve him of her weapon. With experienced ease she flipped it to rest against the wall, before grabbing his forearm, "I don't think any of us will be contemplating matrimony any time soon. Bed with you. I'll have no patience if you ruin the work we've done by attempting to be chivalrous. It's unnecessary."

Geralt stared down at her, silently refusing to move. She returned his scowl and he expected to enter a battle of wills with the woman when she sighed in exasperation. "Fine, be foolish." Her grey gaze fell on a silently amused bard as she suddenly stated, "Try and see to it that he doesn't kill himself in my home."

Jaskier nodded sagely and tossed her something from his pocket. She caught it deftly before disappearing from the cottage entirely with nary a goodbye. Geralt sent a querying look to his companion, "Where is she going?"

"The tavern. She works as a barmaid." Jaskier answered lowly as he sidled up to him, "She'll stay in my room tonight. And you definitely need to lie down, your face is almost the same color as your hair. I see you've been up long enough to get dressed properly which was probably far longer than you should have been up. Being stubborn isn't going to do you any good, you know?"

"We shouldn't have displaced her from her home." Geralt muttered wearily as he let Jaskier prod him back towards the bed. If he could just have a few minutes of rest then they could return to the inn and let Lyrra have her cottage back.

The bard snorted quietly, "If it had truly been an imposition to her then I doubt either one of us would still be standing here. Kind, though, the fair lady's heart is, she has very effective means of getting others to leave her be. Gods know I've watched her do it enough while she's served some rather brutish characters." He reached down to tugged Geralt's boots back off, "I have your tonics in my bag. Will any of them help you?"

"What about my sword?" The witcher asked as he sat against the wall. His long legs dangled over the edge of the bed and a dull throbbing had begun to thrum in his skull.

"I have that too, don't worry." Jaskier answered as he sat back on his haunches, "Tonics, yea or nay?"

Geralt nodded tiredly and closed his eyes. He listened as the younger man drew away and rustled about in the other room. There was a brief pause and the faint sound of clattering metal. Geralt could only assume that Jaskier was looking over whatever had been cooking in the pot. It was only a moment later he felt a heavy weight land in his lap. The pouch of his mixtures.

With careful fingers, he undid the drawstring and began to sift through the bag's contents, "I take it you're no longer writing wedding vows."

Geralt didn't need to look up to see Jaskier's raised brow. He could practically feel the other man's incredulity, "As a matter of fact, no. Lyrra has made it clear that she would much rather like to continue living in squalor than have my hand in marriage."

There was a bitter note to the bard's voice that had Geralt studying him closely. He was faced with the younger man's usual good humor, but there was something..., "Is that not what you wanted?"

"Of course, it is."

Jaskier answered quickly, too quickly. Geralt kept silent and finally selected a tincture to drink. Silently he counted down from ten as he tossed back the liquid and subtly eyed Jaskier's suddenly tense form.

"I just...I just don't." Jaskier sighed heavily and ran a frustrated hand through his hair, "I know why I don't want to marry. I mean eventually...someday, I wouldn't mind – but she, she was just so sure. No, we would not marry. I just want to know what causes that kind of certainty in a person."

"You're a link to a past she's trying to escape, Jaskier. It makes sense why she didn't want to honor your betrothal." Geralt objectively grumbled as he tucked the pouch against his side. His response did not seem to quell Jaskier's agitation, however.

"No, it wasn't that." Jaskier bit out wearily as he tried to find the words to explain. His time with Lyrra had gone better than he had anticipated, but it had left him with more questions than answers and he wasn't sure he would ever have his curiosity satisfied, "There was this finality to her voice. She didn't say it in so many words, but I don't think she ever wishes to fall in love or marry. I don't understand that."

There was no denying the attraction between the two of them. Even after dismissing their engagement, they continued to flirt, but there was a wariness to their actions now. Their innocent game had turned into something more complicated and Jaskier wasn't sure if that pleased him or not. Despite their little seductive dance, the bard found he truly did want to know the princess turned barmaid. What had happened to Lyrrana de Sansa?

Geralt observed the mix of emotions that crossed the bard's face and nearly sighed himself. He had his own curiosity about Lyrra, but he somehow knew he didn't want the story that piqued at the corners of his mind. He had already slotted a few of the pieces into place and he didn't care for the grim tale that was being woven before him, "If her story is anything like her sister's then it's probably best you don't understand."

Jaskier looked up sharply, a contemplative frown painted his mouth and made him look smarter than he usually acted, "I knew you had killed Renfri at Blaviken, had heard talk that she was some sort of monster, even if she did have the King's favor. I hadn't realized you knew her. I'm sorry, Geralt."

"Hmm." The witcher grunted, a wall fell shut over those memories as he silently refused to share, "I didn't realize you were of royal blood."

Jaskier rolled his eyes at the topic change, "Oh well, that. Lesser nobility, really, and it's not something that has won me many points in the past. So, I try not to spread it around."

"Based on your earlier snit, it sounded more like you didn't care for your status – not the other way around." Geralt countered lightly and eased himself onto his back with a grunt. The throbbing had mellowed, but he still felt ludicrously tired. He was beginning to think he would need to revisit the fleders' corpses, something wasn't right.

"It's not my social status that's the problem. It's my family, specifically my father." Jaskier muttered bitterly, "Oi, don't fall asleep yet. You need to eat some food."

Geralt leveled a dry stare on the bard, "Food's burnt. Now fuck off."

"Eat an apple then." Jaskier threw over his shoulder as he swept out of the room. A moment later an apple hit Geralt in the chest. The bard was lucky he had already left the room.

»»————-　　————-««

"What ta hell 'appen t'yer neck, lass?"

She should have expected the question. Honestly, the bruising wasn't that terrible. Jaskier had gotten her out of Geralt's grasp fast enough for only some faint markings to appear. In the dim light of the tavern, the discolored skin was barely noticeable or so she had thought. Hillard was more observant than most, however.

Lyrra met his concerned gaze as she flipped her tray onto the bar with a raised brow, "Nothing special."

Hillard frown churlishly at her words, a dangerously protective tone entering his voice as he asked, "Did tha bloody bard -"

"No." She responded firmly, a blush began to rise to her cheeks as she noted the regard that she was receiving from a few of the nearby patrons, "No. Nothing like that, Hillard. 'Sides you know I can take care of myself."

"Hmmp." Hillard grunted in disbelief, but let his line of questioning go as they glared stodgily at each other. The barkeep had a soft place in his heart for the younger girl. She had proven herself a hard worker in the time she had been in Glynedol and she never asked for much from anyone. He hated seeing her hurt.

Lyrra rolled her eyes at his stubbornness and tapped the top of her tray for her next order. Already it had been a long night. The Rose and Pine bustled with new faces and she suspected that had much to do with the creatures that the witcher had killed. She wondered how two such monsters could go undetected for so long. She had to push that line of thought to the back of her mind to ponder later as she continued on with her duties. There was just too much to be done, even Mirel was working harder than usual.

It wasn't until hours later that she managed to gain a few minutes to herself as she stepped into the alley behind the kitchen for some fresh air. Sweat clung to her brow and neck in the warm summer night, but to stand free of the mass of bodies inside was something of a reprieve. She leant against the plastered wall of the tavern and sighed in stagnant relief. As much as Lyrra liked to be busy, too many people could become overwhelming.

"Well now, dontcha look pretty."

Lyrra's eyes flew open unaware she had shut them as she eyed the entrance to the alley. The crusty voice sounded familiar as she met his leer. A faint memory of horrible breath pushed to the front of her mind as she realized it was a trader that had come into the Rose before – a handsy one she recalled now. And he had a friend with him, lurking just behind his shoulder.

She said nothing and began to inch toward the Rose's back entrance.

"Uh uh uh." The trader taunted with a raised finger. Yellow teeth flashed into an eager grin and Lyrra had to fight not to sneer in disgust. She took another step back and into a hard, strong body. She glanced up and into cold dark eyes that glittered with twisted amusement.

Oh, Gods.

This man was larger. He loomed well over her like a church gargoyle – two friends then. Her heart began to race and she felt it choke in her throat as the muscles drew tight. She wouldn't be able to scream. She swallowed convulsively as her sweat turned cold. Quickly she reached trembling fingers into her apron for a dagger, she kept hidden.

"No stools to help you this time, missy." The trader cried mockingly as he stepped before her. Her head whipped around to meet his beady eyes again.

No.

Lyrra clenched the leather of the hilt tightly as she felt a larger hand grasp her arm painfully. She attempted to pull away. Her voice was barely more than a rasped whisper as she pushed against the tightness keeping her silent, "Lemme go."

The larger man only tightened his grip just as the trader reached a grimy hand up to trail across her cheek and down her neck to her breasts. She flinched and her stomach dropped. It burned where he touched her, like a trail of ants had begun to crawl over her skin. The acrid taste of bile began to slide up the back of her throat and she so very wanted to scream as frustrated tears began to prick at her eyes.

It only made her angrier.

She would not cry. She would not give this man the satisfaction.

"Now why would we do something like that?" He chuckled.

She hated the sound of it.

Although she could feel herself trembling, she waited until the trader moved even closer to her. His breath was as bad as she remembered and she held onto that inane thought as a buoy against the terror icing her veins.

She was strong.

She could fight.

She was strong.

His fingers dipped below the hem of her neckline and that was when she struck. Her knee came up swiftly to land a hard, brutal blow between his legs. He cried out in pain and crumpled in toward her, but she was no longer paying him any attention as she twisted against the brute crushing her arm. With a cry, she pulled her dagger free and slammed it into his side. He hadn't expected her to be armed. He grunted more than shouted as he let her go to clasp at his wound.

Lyrra didn't waste time as she pulled up the edge of her skirt to run for the Rose's entrance. It was only when the dull press of strong fingers in the back of her dress registered that she realized she had forgotten the third man.

No -

Too quickly for her to process, he slammed her into the plastered wall she had been leaning against. His hand cruelly twisting at her wrist that held the dagger as he did so. It clattered to the ground with a distant thunk and with it the last of her hope as a heavy body covered hers.

"I do like fighters." A voice whispered against her ear. His breath hot against her skin.

No.

Her elbow lashed back in an attempt to throw him off. He laughed.

No.

A shrill scream of terror tore through the air, but Lyrra barely registered it as she struggled. Moments later the man's weight was gone and she was free. Lyrra didn't even think about why as she flew for the door where a teary Mirel stood with open arms. The two girls hovered in the threshold. Mirel watching the proceedings outside with a cautious stare while Lyrra tried to compose herself.

By some miracle, she held in the tears that threatened to spill, but darker thoughts continued to shred at her mind. She felt dirty. Memories of another time, of another's touch, pressed down on her and she struggled to breathe.

"Lyrra?"

Fingers trailing...

"Yer alright now, lass."

Probing, pushing... pain...

She couldn't fight.

She was too weak.

"Lyrrana."

No one called her that. A hand gently cupped her cheek and a sense of safety began to pull at her panicked thoughts. Her grey eyes opened to find a familiar set of blue peering at her worriedly, "Jaskier?"

What was he doing here?

The bard nearly slumped in relief as he forced a kind smile for her, "Hello."

She stared at him not comprehending, "You're supposed to be taking care of Geralt."

A vague hint of disbelieving amusement crept into his gaze as the two studied each other, "Yes, well – his grumpiness has succumbed to sleep again. I thought I would come to check on you and get a few things from my room... Glad, I did. Are you hurt?"

What?

Quietly, her eyes trailed over his form and noted the rumpled set of his doublet. He was breathing a little heavily and then she noticed it. The blood trailing over his hand. His knuckles were split open, "You're hurt."

"I'm fine."

A muffled snort reached Lyrra's ears and she looked up in time to see Hillard ambling toward her. If it was possible, he looked more concerned than he did earlier. His own hands were beginning to show some bruising, "Yer boy's fine, lass. He jus did a pretty number t'tha vile shit's face. Good thing, Mirel found ya when she did."

Lyrra twisted around to find the other woman. Her large green eyes were streaming with tears, but she hadn't moved far from Lyrra's side, as if trying to reassure herself that her fellow barmaid was indeed alright, "The scream."

Mirel smiled almost sheepishly, "I panicked when I saw you against the wall."

"No... no." Lyrra shook her head with a whispered, "Thank you. I was too scared to get much sound out."

"Lyrra, are you hurt?" Jaskier asked again.

"I'm fine." She parroted back at him.

Hillard passed a clean rag to Jaskier, "Owain and a few regulars are takin' care o'tha two bastards, now."

"Two?" Lyrra murmured, "There were three of 'em."

The men seemed to still at those words and Hillard did an about-face as he hurried back towards the men gathered in the alley. Words didn't need to be spoken for Lyrra to understand that one of the men was missing. She had no desire to step into the alley to find out which one at that moment. Memories burned at the back of her mind and she knew she needed a distraction, "Mirel, can you grab the bandages from the front?"

The other woman nodded, thankful for something to do. Jaskier raised a brow at her as she neared him, "Lyrra?"

She twitched her fingers at him, "Hand."

"I'm fine." He murmured trying to catch her gaze. Even so, he let her remove the rag he had wrapped around his knuckles and was kind enough not to comment on her trembling hands. His first two knuckles were torn up rather good, bruising and swelling had begun to take over the rest of his limb.

Lyrra frowned at the sight and pulled him toward a clean water basin to the side. One of the scullery boys quickly scampered out of her way, just as Mirel returned with the bandages. Lyrra smiled at her in thanks before turning her attention back to the minstrel's hand. Jaskier hissed a second later as she pressed the now damp rag against his damaged hand, "Sorry..."

Jaskier shook his head, "It's fine. My strumming hand, I can still pluck the strings with it...I think."

Lyrra sighed, "I didn't take you for the punching type."

"Oh? And what type did you take me for?" The bard asked quietly as if he was well aware of what she would say.

She finally met his gaze and forced a faint smile, "You know. The fast-talking type."

Jaskier's azure orbs danced with grim amusement as he responded, "I didn't feel much like talking this time."

Lyrra swallowed and turned her attention back to her ministrations avoiding his intent stare.

Almost as soon as she had finished wrapping his hand, she felt him tilt her chin up to meet his gaze again. Slowly, gently as if he was afraid that she would break he linked their hands together and pulled her into his frame. It felt like the most natural thing to fall into his arms. She pressed her face into his shoulder as she fought back another wave of tears and let the subtle smells of sandalwood and musk calm her. He held her tightly and only pressed a faint kiss into her hair as he waited for her trembling to subside.

Shuffling footsteps sounded behind them and Jaskier lifted his gaze to meet Hillard's. The old barkeep nodded in quiet respect as he ushered a few of the workers away from the couple. The bard appreciated the moment of privacy, especially when Lyrra drew a sharp breath and moved to step away. He didn't let her go far, not ready to have her out of his sight just yet, "What is it? Talk to me."

"I should get back to work."

Jaskier stared at her in disbelief, "Are you joking?"

She shook her head, "I'm fine. Not hurt... just a little shaken."

"Lyrra -"

"Jaskier please." Lyrra nearly begged as she crossed her arms, "I just need to get back to it. Thank you for coming to my rescue, but -"

"NO. No, no, no." He shook his head, eyes wide as he tried to get her to understand. She hadn't been silent in that alleyway. Whispered pleas had left her mouth as he charged toward the attacker she fought so valiantly against. He had thought the worse in those few seconds, then to find her nearly catatonic in the kitchens - and now she wanted to continue on with her night as if nothing happened? She was bloody well going to think again, "No, Lyrra. We can sit here until the tavern closes and Hillard can escort you back to the inn or you can come with me to the inn, but no, you will not go back into that mass of people. Not after this."

A sudden surge of anger tore through her at his demanding tone, "Jaskier -"

Seeing the fight she was gearing up for, Jaskier headed her off at the pass as he shouted, "Hillard?"

The old barkeep stepped into the kitchen to find the couple now glaring at one another. The bard pasted on a pointed smile as he asked, "How would you feel about Lyrra here finishing off her shift?"

"Ye can't be serious, boy." The barkeep began in a huff only to be cut off by Jaskier's pointed wave in his direction.

Lyrra practically growled, "I'm fine."

Hillard nearly rolled his eyes as he realized what the problem was, "Oh lass, let the boy take care o'ye."

Lyrra grumbled something unintelligible under her breath that had Jaskier narrowing his eyes before she brushed past him to head for the alleyway exit. She froze at the threshold as ice began to take hold of her veins again and her heart began to pound.

Those men would no longer be there... she knew this logically, but -

Jaskier came to stand beside her as he sent her a knowing look, "Still feeling fine, Princess?"

She sent him a dark glare, but he remained unfazed as he threaded his fingers through hers and tugged her outside with him, "You know for a small town it certainly isn't dull."

"Jaskier." She murmured warningly.

He sent her an unimpressed stare as he pulled her along, "It's only a few metres, Princess. I'm sure you can manage. After all, it's not like you've just gone through a traumatic experience or anything."

Her earlier anger was back as fire suddenly thrummed through her. Lyrra yanked her hand from his and stormed out of the alley and toward the inn. Just a few more feet. Jaskier didn't miss a beat as he stayed on her heels.

"You're an ass." She threw petulantly over her shoulder.

"Yes, well. You're hardly the first to make that distinction." Jaskier threw back as he easily kept pace with her, "Do try and be a little more original."

The invective curse that left her lips brought an amused grin to his. He was fairly sure that in the short time he had known her that she hadn't sworn once.

They stepped into the inn and she bounded ahead, intent on getting away from him. Stifling his own curse, Jaskier caught up to her in time for the door to his room to slam in his face, "Now that's just rude."

He didn't think much of it when he flung the door back open and marched inside, silently grateful that she hadn't locked it. His irritation had built and he wasn't about to leave until he said his piece to the stubborn woman and made sure she was alright for the night. Mostly, he was trying to quiet every instinct that was telling him that Lyrra shouldn't be left alone.

She was brooding in front of the window when he entered. Intent on ignoring him, Jaskier was sure. Unluckily for her, he was rather hard to ignore, "Lyrra."

A slight twitch in his direction was the only indication that she heard him, "You know, normally I'm the one being accused of dramatics."

"Jaskier." Lyrra muttered exasperatedly as she turned to glare at him, "Just leave me be, please."

He raised a brow at her, "Technically speaking, this is still my room and I would like it very much if you would talk to me."

She pinched the bridge of her nose and silently counted to ten as she tried to get her emotions under control. She hadn't been able to have a coherent thought since being pressed against the wall and she knew – she knew that her emotions were all over the place and that she wasn't being fair to Jaskier, but she did not want to breakdown in front of him, "Why do you care? We've known each other for five minutes."

He tilted his head and smiled at her that gentle smile that made her knees weak and sauntered before her, "Well one, we've known each other for slightly longer than five minutes, and two, you're my friend now. It's the only reason I need to care about you."

Her lips moved silently as she tried to find a reply suitable, but what came out was, "You're an idiot."

His smile turned rueful, "And you're trembling again."

Jaskier opened his arms in silent invitation and it only took a moment before she accepted and stepped into his embrace. He held her tightly and wished more than anything it was under different circumstances, "Tell me what happened."

"You saw what happened." Her voice was muffled against his chest.

He sighed wearily, "I saw part of it. I honestly only saw the one man attacking you. Didn't realize there was two until your barkeep slammed someone against the ground next to me. You said there were actually three."

"Jaskier, please. I don't want to relive it right now." She whispered and pressed her cheek into the hollow of his shoulder, "You should get back to Geralt."

Her actions belied her words and Jaskier rolled his eyes, "Somehow I think Geralt is going to be just fine. You, on the other hand, are not."

She tilted her head back and met his solemn stare, "Then... Then can we just stay like this? This is easy."

Jaskier chewed on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated her request, but silently nodded, "Alright...for now."

Lyrra sighed in relief and fairly melted into him. She didn't know what it was about the bard that soothed her so. On some level, she was terrified of the innate trust that she had for him, but in that moment she was simply glad he was there.

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